


ya'aburnee

by almanzil



Category: Persona 3, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:47:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almanzil/pseuds/almanzil
Summary: (Arabic): literally "you bury me," a term of endearment expressing the desire to die before a loved one, rather than live without them.





	ya'aburnee

**Author's Note:**

> this is for @NemiruTami (whom I admire and love very much) on Twitter, the person who got me into Pegokita, as revenge for you drawing those P5 Bad End Pegokita pics. I hope you cry and suffer (jk jk I love you but I live for your tears, Nems)

Something that in death, Akira had taught Minato, was that no matter what happened there would be nothing that could fill the empty space he had left in him. It reminded Minato of everything he wasn't, of everything he couldn't do and couldn't be and couldn't change. It reminded him that he had leaned on Akira as if he was a crutch and when he stood up straight and let go, Akira fell to the floor and Minato could never pick him back up. Like a flower, he had blossomed and then fallen away and disappeared into nothing but a few remnants.

 

It was like an insult. Now that Akira was dead and Minato wasn't sure if he could live in a world without him. His world had collapsed when they had brought him the outfit Akira had worn when he had been shot in the head. He never could do more than stare at it, with a blank mind and a deadening heart, because Akira had been his everything. It had felt like his heart had stopped. Like Akira was all that had kept it beating, kept Minato running. He could feel the dark clouds looming above him, and he yelled and screamed to the skies, to whatever God that hadn't listened, why he and Akira couldn't have more time.

 

To Minato, the rush had been sharp and sweet and strong. They had both been in it until the end, but the end wasn't supposed to come so early. Not like this. Not with a bullet to Akira's head. Akira's life had to be taken when he was too young, when he was too good. Minato wondered if maybe that was why. Maybe Akira had been too kind, too pure, too soft, and that was why he had slipped through Minato's fingers. Akira had been his light, the sun of his world, but there was no warmth, no light, in a world without the sun. There was no person without the heart.

 

Minato could never move on. It was like everything in his body had slowed to a stop, the pain of losing him worse than anything else. It was like cold ice permeating over him, freezing his bain and his blood. Sometimes when he placed his hand on something that used to be Akira's, a familiar cold would embrace him. His emotions were locked on nothing but the merciless pain of it all, and somehow Minato still felt empty and tired and he couldn't be bothered to do anything except feel the blood on Akira's clothes and know that it was something that still connected him to Akira.

 

Akira had always been his, and he had always been Akira's. He had never asked for more than Minato's company, and slowly but surely, they had become each other's. It was a feeling of security, of feeling the pure love in his heart that he didn't hesitate to share, seeing his radiant smile and the stars in his eyes and hearing his laugh. It was like their souls had become too attached to one another to be able to separate and during the time, it seemed so wonderful.

 

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

 

He could barely  _live_ without Akira. Sometimes he never got up in the morning. He was growing thinner because he could barely eat, barely function. Most days his food became cold and he didn't have the energy to pick up the drink he chose to go with it. He couldn't stop thinking if maybe, he had another day, he would have spilled everything he had ever thought and felt towards Akira to him. He couldn't do that now. Not when there was still a sharp stab from what happened and another from everything that never would. Worse than a stab. It was an ache that ran deep in every bone in his body.

 

Minato had photos of them, and it made everything hurt all the more. It was Akira's smile, at Minato's fingertips but an ocean's length away. He often heard that grief was like an ocean, and honestly, Minato couldn't disagree. It was, and Minato was sinking deeper and deeper. He wouldn't be surprised if Akira had drowned and the sea was trying to take him down to join him. 

 

A part of him was trying to numb the pain, bury it because Minato knew he wouldn't be able to survive if he didn't and it made him feel pathetic, desperate, weak, inferior. He couldn't stand this pain so he tried to make it disappear. He was isolating himself. Maybe he was even victimizing himself. He felt like a baby out of the warm embrace of a mother - dumb, unbalanced, cowardly. Withering away into nothing. Perhaps that was where Akira was. The colors of the world had become gray, the music was no longer going to hold him up. Akira had been a splash of color, the brightest and most vibrant in Minato's life, and now, he was gone, and the canvas was back to blank.

 

Akira.  _Akira_. It was like the memories replayed over and over to keep them alive and Minato hated it. He missed the warmth of Akira's body. He'd settle for being able to feel Akira's breathing, hear the steady beat of his heart and listen to him read aloud those slow-moving stories. If he had a chance to hold Akira just one more time, he'd squeeze tight and never let go. Akira wasn't supposed to  _die_. They all knew it was coming but Minato was planning to spend many years before then. Admittedly, he was ready to give up his life for Akira's, because Akira deserved as many years as he could get.

 

And now, Minato would never celebrate Akira's birthday again. Akira would never turn eighteen, and they could never go on any more dates.

  

And every night time, as always, the moon rose, surrounded by the flickering stars. Minato wondered if the star closest to the moon was Akira smiling from so far away.


End file.
